Morning in a Small Provincial Town
by Rosepixie
Summary: A series of very short stories about characters from Walt Disney's Beauty and the Beast in the morning. There is very little plot, but it is safe to assume that the stories all take place on the same morning, so small connections may become evident. I have no current plans to expand any of these, but may continue to add more of them over time.
1. Belle

Belle stretched her arms and opened her eyes. Above her head was the high pink satin canopy of the ornate bed she slept in. She was nestled among soft, plush pillows. It struck her how amazing it still was that the room she slept in was so very fancy. When she had agreed to stay in the castle, she had expected to be locked in a dungeon cell, waking up on a bed of straw every morning. Instead, she could go almost anywhere she wanted and was treated like a princess by the unusual castle staff.

Yesterday the Beast had shown her the most amazing library. She probably would have stayed there all night reading if Mrs. Potts hadn't come and shooed her to bed. Even so, she had managed to stay up most of the night reading by candlelight the book that she had brought back to her room.

Belle looked around the room, aglow with the morning sun shining through the high windows. The tall wardrobe was dozing in a corner and Belle decided that she didn't want to wake her up. All of her dresses were tucked away inside the wardrobe, but a blue dressing gown was draped across the foot of the bed. As quietly as she could, Belle slipped out of the giant bed and threw the silken dressing gown on over her nightshift. She ran her fingers through her hair to straighten it some without the bother of actually using the coral comb that rested on the vanity. Then she grabbed the book off of her bedside table and tucked it under her arm.

Easing the door open as quietly as possible, she peeked around at the corridor. It was blessedly empty. She padded out in her bare feet and shut the door as quietly as possible behind her. With a big smile, Belle hugged the book to her chest and hurried towards the library. She slipped into the massive room and found that it was, thankfully, empty. She hurried to return the book she carried to its place on the shelves and claimed another one that she was eager to read.

The fire hadn't fully gone out from the night before, so it was easy to stir it up again. She added a little new wood and soon had a cheery flame to sit before. Then Belle curled up into one of the big chairs placed near the fireplace and tucked her bare feet up under her to keep them warm. She opened the new book across her lap and eagerly began to read.

It was over an hour later when one of the maids found her and fetched Mrs. Potts to shoo her back to her room for a proper dress and some breakfast, but by that point, she was well into the new book and happy as can be.


	2. The Beast

The Prince woke up as dawn streaked the sky and spilled into the West Wing through the tattered and torn curtains. He opened his eyes and felt the unusual sensation of a smile on his lips. It brought the image of her face to his mind - her eyes wide and sparkling with wonder and delight, a joyful smile spread across her coral lips, a sweet pink tinge to her cheeks as she flushed in pleasure. It was the expression she wore when he had given her the library, the expression that caused his heart to first skip a beat.

The Prince climbed from his bed, pushing the shredded bedding away from him and walked over towards his balcony. He stretched his long, beastly arms, grimacing at the painful kinks. His overlarge beast frame was really not designed for a human bed, but he still slept in his room, on the soft mattress, every night.

Under its delicate glass dome the magic rose floated. Before, it had always seemed to be taunting him, but this morning he found that it made him smile again. He was struck with the wild impulse to take the rose from the protective glass dome and give it to Belle in the hopes of seeing that smile that lights up a room once more.

With a sigh, he pulled back the large paw that had begun reaching for the glass. The rose was so fragile at this point that carrying it to her would almost certainly be the end of it. He couldn't throw away his chance to be human again just when he was first beginning to believe that it might really exist.

He stepped further out onto the balcony, gazing down at the snowy gardens below. There was no sign of her there, but it was still very early. She was most likely still abed. With a sigh, he turned back to his rooms. There must be some way to fill his time until he could see her again. Some way other than torturing himself with daydreams about her and his human self, that is.


	3. Mrs Potts

Mrs. Potts woke up on the shelf next to the sleeping children. Very quietly, she pushed open the lattice-front door and slipped onto the work surface outside the cabinet. She preferred to let the children sleep for as long as possible since they had been enchanted, to let them forget for a while their fragile porcelain existence.

She was very good at putting on a smile and keeping the staff going, as any good housekeeper had to be, but that didn't mean that Mrs. Potts didn't struggle every day with the curse. She found her own work difficult enough while stuck in the form of a teapot, but it was even worse to watch the children stuck as fragile teacups.

Mrs. Potts carefully made her way over to the stove, who was sleepily starting breakfast. She knew that the enticing smell of bacon and pastries was certainly filling the kitchen, but of course she couldn't be certain. Smell was one of the things she missed most.

"Good morning, Bouche," she greeted him as cheerfully as she could.

"I hope it's better than yesterday," the stove grumbled.

"So do we all. She loved the library yesterday, so perhaps he's on the right track."

"Hmph," Chef Bouche grumbled. "Unless she only loves it because it takes her mind off this accursed castle."

"Stop that!" the teapot scolded. "She seems happy lately. And I can't have you saying such things when the rest of the staff is awake. Morale around here is low enough without you trying to crush what little hope remains."

"Yes, Mrs. Potts," the stove mumbled, chastened.

"Good," she nodded. "Now, is there water for tea yet? I'm sure the master could use some this morning. We must keep his spirits high or all is lost."

As the rest of the kitchen began to awaken, Mrs. Potts made fresh tea and got her tray ready for a visit to the West Wing. If the Prince was to win Belle's heart and save them all, then he was going to need all the cheer and support he could get!

With a purposeful air and a cheery smile, Mrs. Potts finally directed her cart to head for the Prince's chambers.


	4. Lumiere

Lumiere woke up under the table in the hall. He was hidden from anyone who might be passing by the floor-length tablecloth. He glanced up and again thanked his lucky stars that some of the palace furniture was still inanimate.

Leaning into the space between his central candlestick and one of his arms was a sleeping feather duster. If he had been human now, she would be nestled into his neck. Lumiere smiled at her. Cogsworth had always complained that Lumiere fooled around with all the maids, and in the past when they had all been human it had been true. Recently, though, he had been less interested in the maid staff, and it wasn't because he was now an enchanted candelabra.

Lumiere had found that only one maid caught his attention anymore. Since he had become more enamored of Fifi, he had been less and less interested in any of the other castle beauties. At first, he had assumed that it was a passing fancy and that soon he would return to his roving ways, but the more time he spent with Fifi, the more that it became apparent that this wasn't going to go away.

Using the arm that Fifi was not sleeping on, Lumiere lifted the tablecloth just a little bit and peered out. No one was in the corridor and Belle's door was still closed. Belle must still be asleep. Letting the cloth fall again, Lumiere let himself relax. He could stay here with his sweet Fifi for a little while longer. Neither of them would be needed before the girl was up.

Setting back into a comfortable position and cuddling the feather duster closer to him, Lumiere began to hum softly. He was exactly where he wanted to be.


	5. Gaston

The sun was high in the sky by the time Gaston woke up. He had spent the night in an upstairs room at the tavern and noises could be heard from down the main hall. With a yawn and a wide stretch, he climbed out of bed.

His boots were piled on the floor and Gaston began to pull them on. He was hungry.

Gaston had been staying in this room quite a bit lately. He had a hunting cabin of his own, but without a woman to clean it or to cook for him, it wasn't a very livable place. It had developed an unpleasant odor of late and was even less inviting than usual. When he made Belle his wife, that problem would be fixed and he would spend far fewer nights in the tavern.

The tavern room was quiet during the day and Gaston's stomping entrance drew everyone's attention. LeFou was sitting at Gaston's usual table blinking blearily at his breakfast.

Fully confident in the rightness of every eye being on him, Gaston plopped down into the chair left empty especially for him. The tavern-keeper's pretty daughter was already sashaying over to his table with a large plate of eggs and a larger mug of beer.

"Ready for more hunting today, LeFou?" Gaston asked with a heavy clap on the back, causing the smaller man to spit out his mouthful of beer.

"Sure, Gaston!" LeFou finally managed to sputter.

"Here's your breakfast, Gaston," breathed the tavern girl as she bent over setting down the food, pushing the optimal view of her generous bosom right before his eyes. Gaston smiled at the sight. Then he shifted his attention to his meal and didn't see how his slap on the girl's rump nearly sent her tumbling into the next table. Not that the girl seemed to mind as she regained her balance and gazed back towards him with a blushing smile.


	6. Cogsworth

Once upon a time, Cogsworth had been as any other butler. He would wake up early in the morning in his immaculate room, wash and dress. Then he would head out to direct the day-to-day business of the castle.

His life no longer had this reassuring order, however. He no longer even went to his room. It was too difficult for him to reach easily and it was now dusty and depressing. He could let the maids in to dust, but he refused to do so. Women had never been allowed in the male servants wing before, even to clean, and he had no intention of changing that simply because they were feather dusters instead of human maidens now.

These days, he slept in the front hall where the clock that he now embodied had always stood before the curse. Waking there, Cogsworth looked around the entry hall with a sigh. Everything was the same as the day before. Even after all this time, he still found that deeply disappointing every single day. Nevertheless, he refused to wallow in self-pity. He may be a clock now, but he still had a household to run.

It was early, so the Master and the young lady upon whom they had all pinned their hopes were almost certainly still abed. Cogsworth hopped off the small table where he had rested and headed towards the kitchen. For the first few years, he had struggled without his usual human morning routines, but now he was accustomed to the lack of washing and dressing, if not entirely comfortable with it.

Pushing through the kitchen door, Cogsworth smiled. He saw Mrs. Potts already bustling around putting her tea tray together. Chef Bouche was doing something on his stovetop with a pot and a wooden spoon and looking as grumpy as ever.

"Good morning, Cogsworth," Mrs. Potts greeted him quietly.

"Good morning," he replied equally quietly. It would not do to wake up any of the sleeping kitchen staff too early. "It might be helpful to take the Master some tea and breakfast this morning to try and keep him mindful of his humanity."

"Of course," the teapot agreed, never ceasing in her work. "His tea is almost ready."

"Good. Very good. Perhaps we should plan a dinner for them tonight as well. To keep things moving in the right direction, of course."

Lost in his plans, Cogsworth took no notice of the housekeeper's response or of her bouncing away on her tea cart towards the West Wing. He was determined to make sure everything was perfect and the couple did no backsliding on the progress they were making. His staff would be human again if he had to push the master into that girl's arms himself!


End file.
